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"No. "
"His new son-in-law, Lev Peshkov. "
"Oh," said Gus. "I didn't know that. "
{III}
Lev was furious about the strike. The union was trying to take advantage of his inexperience. He felt sure Brian Hall and the men had decided he was weak. He was determined to prove them wrong.
He had tried being reasonable. "Mr. V needs to make back some of the money he lost in the bad years," he had said to Hall.
"And the men need to make back some of what they lost in reduced wages!" Hall had replied.
"It's not the same. "
"No, it's not," Hall had agreed. "You're rich and they're poor. It's harder for them. " The man was infuriatingly quick-witted.
Lev was desperate to get back into his father-in-law's good books. It was dangerous to let a man such as Josef Vyalov remain displeased with you for long. The trouble was that charm was Lev's only asset, and it did not work on Vyalov.
However, Vyalov was being supportive about the foundry. "Sometimes you have to let them strike," he had said. "It doesn't do to give in. Just stick it out. They become more reasonable when they start to get hungry. " But Lev knew how fast Vyalov could change his mind.
However, Lev had a plan of his own to hasten the collapse of the strike. He was going to use the power of the press.
Lev was a member of the Buffalo Yacht Club, thanks to his father-in-law, who had got him elected. Most of the town's leading businessmen belonged, including Peter Hoyle, editor of the Buffalo Advertiser. One afternoon Lev approached Hoyle in the clubhouse at the foot of Porter Avenue.
The Advertiser was a conservative newspaper that always called for stability and blamed all problems on foreigners, Negroes, and socialist troublemakers. Hoyle, an imposing figure with a black mustache, was a crony of Vyalov's. "Hello, young Peshkov," he said. His voice was loud and harsh, as if he was used to shouting over the noise of a printing press. "I hear the president has sent Cam Dewar's son up here to settle your strike. "
"I believe so, but I haven't heard from him yet. "
"I know him. He's naive. You don't have much to worry about. "
Lev agreed. He had taken a dollar from Gus Dewar in Petrograd in 1914, and last year he had taken Gus's fiancee just as easily. "I wanted to talk to you about the strike," he said, sitting in the leather armchair opposite Hoyle.
"The Advertiser has already condemned the strikers as un-American socialists and revolutionaries," Hoyle said. "What more can we do?"
"Call them enemy agents," Lev said. "They're holding up the production of vehicles that our boys are going to need when they get to Europe-but the workers themselves are exempt from the draft!"
"That's an angle. " Hoyle frowned. "But we don't yet know how the draft is going to work. "
"It's sure to exclude war industries. "
"That's true. "
"And yet they're demanding more money. A lot of people would take less for a job that keeps them out of the army. "
Hoyle took a notebook from his jacket pocket and began to write. "Take less money for a draft-exempt job," he muttered.
"Maybe you want to ask: whose side are they on?"
"Sounds like a headline. "
Lev was surprised and pleased. It had been easy.
Hoyle looked up from his notebook. "I presume Mr. V knows we're having this conversation?"
Lev had not anticipated this question. He grinned to cover his confusion. If he said no, Hoyle would drop the whole thing immediately. "Yes, of course," he lied. "In fact it was his idea. "
{IV}
